


Hearth and Home

by HyperKid



Series: Hopes And Dreams [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caleb Widogast’s Home For Self Loathing, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Other, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 17:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30109299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperKid/pseuds/HyperKid
Summary: There’s just a few final touches to put on Caleb’s room once the Mighty Nein have filled it. Jester sticks around to help organize it and Caleb realizes why it matters so much to his found family.Edited to change the title, I fucking KNEW I’d used Where the Heart Is before but it didn’t show up on search
Relationships: Background PolyNein, Jester Lavorre & Caleb Widogast, Mild Beau/Yasha
Series: Hopes And Dreams [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2215596
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	Hearth and Home

**Author's Note:**

> HK: So I can write soft Caleb in a couple days but slutty-happy-getting-railed Caleb is taking weeks. How is this fair?  
> Mollymauk: It really isn’t. Have you considered you may have too many flavours of slutty-happy-getting-railed?  
> HK: That doesn’t sound right.  
> Mollymauk: It could also be that I’m not in enough of them.  
> HK: That’s much more plausible. I have too many ideas and long intense things on the go again, I need more short and sweet.  
> Mollymauk: That always gets the long things finished.  
> HK: Eh, I have until they get back to Lucien and Eiselcross, so probably about 6 months. 
> 
> WARNINGS!! Journeys into the mind of Caleb Widogast, so self loathing and accidental isolationism. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own the show, you can tell cuz I use content warnings

“I can do this myself when I next create the tower, Jester,” Caleb tried to protest, holding a cushion in his hands like a shield. 

The tiefling in question just grinned at him, dumping an armload of her own cushions onto his small, serviceable chair. 

“But then you won’t have it for today! You need to get some good sleep too, and like this you can try different things out and see what you like!” 

Which... was all technically true, more’s the issue. Caleb didn’t even want to think of the repercussions if he tried to tell her that he didn’t deserve good sleep, nice things, didn’t deserve her time or energy. He’d got it anyway, and he hated to see her face crumple with worry. 

With sadness he deserved even less than her time. 

No, Jester Lavorre had decided she was going to help him rearrange his room, and the very least he could do was not be ungrateful. Helping was... 

Dropping his end of the thick oak desk, he just about managed not to crush his own toes. Why he’d ever made the damn thing so heavy, so solid, so... everything he’d ever wanted in an ornate, beautifully carved status symbol, everything Beauregard deserved... he’d never thought about how much it’d weigh. 

Hadn’t suspected Jester would take the night after dumping everything in his room, to help him organize it. 

Jester had stopped too, still holding up her end without apparent effort. 

Naturally. 

Caleb managed a self deprecating smile. 

“I... ah, we may have to wait on moving this one. I don’t think I can lift it.” The perfect symbol of the evening, honestly, but he was trying not to give in to those thoughts. 

A little physical exhaustion should help with that at least. There was nothing like that full body weariness to help push past thousands of recriminations, doubts, loathing. He may even be able to sleep well. 

That thought bucked him up against his will and he managed a more real smile. 

“It looks fine where it is anyway, don’t you think?” He tried, glancing back at the desk. 

It didn’t, it was almost in the middle of the room, clearly put by people in the middle of moving a lot of other things and not really thinking about where to put them. Having it there at all had almost moved him to tears. 

Moving the fucking thing against the wall had an entirely different type of tear welling. 

Jester gave him a calculating look, then looked down at the desk. Her lips puckered just a little and then she shrugged, setting her own end down and moving around to face him across the middle of the desk. 

“Alright, but we can at least get it out of the way.” 

About to protest that he really meant it, he really couldn’t lift the damn thing, every word died in Caleb’s throat as she got a grip on either side of the narrower face, bent her knees, and lifted it. 

All of it. The whole damn thing. And he couldn’t take even half its weight. 

It was heavy enough that it was visibly affecting her at least, a strain in her face and tight muscles in her arms and back as she shuffled awkwardly across the room to push the end to the wall. Sharp puffs of exertion filled the silence while Caleb just... gaped. 

Finally she dropped it just a little less carefully than she should have, shoved it the last few inches, and turned to grin at him just a little tiredly, pushing sweaty blue hair off her face. 

“Better?” She asked cheerfully, like he even knew what words were. 

Opening and closing his mouth a few times, Caleb found a genuine smile stealing across his face as he shook his head. 

“I couldn’t even lift half of that,” he muttered, turning to take the matching chair and bring it across to tuck under the desk. 

Jester laughed, moving out of his way and punching him gently on the arm. 

“Of course not! You’re the wizard. I’m the tank,” she teased him brightly, looking around to assess the rest of the room. 

They’d gotten most of it sorted to something at least liveable, and honestly... it looked good. Inviting, with the glow of the fire, the sumptuous cushions, the extra chairs. The kind of sitting room he could imagine spending a comfortable evening in, perhaps with a guest. 

There were a couple of things he’d probably change when the time came to recreate the tower again. A more cohesive colour scheme, a larger couch, and of course none of the small, plain furniture he’d originally included. That was all piled in a corner now, so apparently the Nein hadn’t found anything else to do with it. 

He supposed he should be glad they hadn’t just tossed it into the hall. Which did raise another question. 

Glancing back to the heavy desk, his brow furrowed. It had been hard enough for her to move just those few feet; Beau’s room was on an entirely different level. 

“How did you get that up here in the first place?” 

Following his gaze, Jester shrugged cheerfully and spilled herself onto the couch. 

“Yasha helped me carry it, so it wasn’t that bad,” she explained, stretching herself out and burrowing into the pile of pillows. 

Caleb couldn’t help smiling as he watched her, moving to take a seat on the end of the couch. Then paused again and had to wonder if he’d been an idiot. 

“Yasha... should we have asked her to help?” Technically it hadn’t been his idea to do this in the first place, but... the fact that it hadn’t been the first thing that came to mind made him feel like he’d missed the joke. 

Must have been... alright, no, there was a fucking lot going on in his head tonight. The past month, really. Maybe it made sense he was running a step or so behind. 

Jester gave him a sly grin and tossed a pillow at him. 

“With the eyes she was giving Beau at dinner? Nah. Besides, we did okay! Do you wanna move anything else?” 

Fielding the pillow as it flew over his head, Caleb surprised himself a little by catching it, turning it over slowly in his lap. And alright, maybe he had also wondered why Yasha was quiet that evening. Not enough to really think about, but... 

He couldn’t help smiling down at soft fabric. 

“Good for her.” Yasha deserved something good, something bright and warm in her life. And Beau? Beau definitely deserved it too. They’d make something beautiful together. 

He couldn’t even find it in him to be jealous; he’d been spinning through a breakdown for what felt like days, utterly certain that there wasn’t one nice thing left in the world. Like he’d completely fucked everything up just by thinking he could move against Trent. Like there was no light left. 

Beau and Yasha’s happiness was already soothing across his soul. 

Jester and Fjord... no, that one he wasn’t going to think about. Not about how much happier they’d be together, without him in the way. How much safer, how much easier their life would be. 

Jester was sat on his couch, despite his protests, because... 

Ah. 

Okay. 

He’d been distancing himself from them. Not making himself a room to match theirs, deliberately separating himself from the group. Closing himself off away from them. 

He’d not been thinking about it like that at the time, but the thought felt so right it left him shaken. 

He didn’t want to be distanced. The Mighty Nein, this family was the closest to happy he’d ever been in his life. If he knew nothing else in the world, he knew he loved them. 

It wasn’t like his leaving would be enough to protect them now. Just the thought made him want to run from the room, to find Veth and Fjord, Caduceus, even burst in on Beau and Yasha and gather them all close. To apologize for what he’d done without even noticing. 

They already knew though. They must have; all of them had left their own touches on his changed rooms. A signature unique to them, tying him back to them. 

Letting out a shaky breath, he leaned back into the mess of cushions. Found Jester’s legs and tugged them gently across his lap. Gave her a weak smile. She looked worried now, sitting up and scooting closer, so some of the realization must have showed on his face. 

“Caleb...” she said softly, reaching out but not quite touching. A distance between them that suddenly felt so fundamentally ~wrong~. 

He closed it, taking her hand and squeezing it tightly. When he spoke, his voice felt hoarse as though he hadn’t used it for days. 

“I had not really thought about why I did not furnish my rooms. I... didn’t want to think about it. It didn’t seem important.” It didn’t feel like enough. Just jumbled thoughts that made no sense, but... he couldn’t say it. 

Still couldn’t say how much this family meant to him. 

He didn’t have to. 

Jester blew out a huff of air and gave him a stern look, covering his hand in both of hers. 

“ _You’re_ important, Caleb. To me and to all the others. You deserve nice things too.” 

It felt fake still, just a little of the hollowness he always projected onto such words, but... knowing that she believed it. Meant it, and the others did too. Enough to lug fuck off heavy furniture all over his tower. 

He managed a smile, let himself lean into her. 

“Thank you. Some day... I may believe that.” Usually the latter half was silent, part of the wall between the mountains of self loathing and the people who loved him. 

Tonight, he couldn’t hide it. Couldn’t let any part of that distance build again. 

And Jester surprised him. Didn’t immediately fuss, or worry, or be upset that he didn’t believe it already. She just grinned and gave his hand a squeeze and cuddled up to his side. 

“I’m gonna keep telling you until you do,” she told him firmly, resting her head on his shoulder. 

And... if he stayed? If he didn’t push them all away, if he didn’t force himself back into misery? She might manage it. 

Fuck, this was Jester Lavorre; there wasn’t anywhere he could run in the same plane that she wouldn’t be able to Send a pointed message to remind him to come home. There was just no escaping it. 

He was home. 

**Author's Note:**

> HK: I’m getting a few more writing beans than I have the past couple weeks, so the Molly coat’s going on the back burner and I hope to have something for y’all tomorrow! Wish me luck!


End file.
